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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25790878">Classmates</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbymandy/pseuds/bbymandy'>bbymandy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse, Character Death, F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Suicide, friends to nothing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:02:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,128</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25790878</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbymandy/pseuds/bbymandy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The internal monologue between Kei Tsukishima and a classmate as they acknowledge each other's presence in their own lives.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tsukishima Kei/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Classmates</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>There she goes, with her stupid smile again.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s staring out the window again.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ugh, can’t they talk somewhere else.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I wish this dude would leave me alone.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Why can’t she have a quieter conversation?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Does he not have anyone else to bother?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This guy doesn’t care about her. He just wants to sleep with Ms. Popular.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This guy doesn’t care about me. I think he just wants to get in my pants.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I want to go home already.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Life outside of Karasuno’s volleyball club was rather dull for the tall blonde boy. He usually hung out with his best friend, but when he walked home alone after parting ways he found himself consumed in his own thoughts. The best way he could drown out the deafening silence was by slipping on his headphones and strolling back home to find solace in his room.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After school for her was spent wandering the streets, not wanting to make it to her final destination that quickly. These walks by herself were the most important part of her day, her unspoken lifeline that allowed her to brace for the night ahead. Usually, she would walk until her feet hurt or until it was too dark to see in front of her. Lost in the sounds of the area surrounding her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>If I go home now, then he might still be there. I should keep taking the long way around.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>If I don’t go home now, then mom will worry. I better pick up the pace.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Please be gone.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Please don’t bother me.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m home.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His mom left out food for him, and he took up to his room to eat in peace. The colorful things that were his decorations lined neatly along the edge of his desk or hung up carefully on the wall. It was filled with items that represented him causing the room to feel warm with his presence contrasting his cool exterior. It was his unspoken paradise. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The unlocked door was enough of a sign that whoever left previously did not care to be careful. The home was freezing and void of anything that showed someone was habiting the space. Her room was just like everywhere else, except the drawers half filled with her clothes. She went to the fridge, hoping for something only to be met with bare shelves and one can of a malted barley liquid. The desolate home was her implicit hell.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I am full and tired from practice.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I feel so drained and hungry.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The world seemed a lot brighter once he was able to experience his </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘</span>
  </em>
  <span>this is why I love volleyball’ moment. School was more lively and his days were filled with the memories he made with teammates. The usually insufferable chatter emitting from his classroom no longer bothered him as he joined in with his best friend and newfound manager. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Upholding her facade was growing gradually harder with each passing day no matter how hard she tried to genuinely feel the emotions she was putting on display for everyone else. Laughter tasted bitter on her tongue and the vast sky seemed more hopeful than the chalkboard.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I am actually enjoying myself.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I feel so incomplete.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Our classroom is missing something.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Everyone seems so carefree.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She’s been really quiet lately.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He looks like he is finally enjoying himself.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe it’s just my imagination.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He kept pushing to better himself and compete with his fellow teammates. The reluctance to be at practice eventually dissipated and he found it fun to be there. His small portion of alone time on the way home was no longer terrifying without music. Thoughts no longer brought him pain from his past and now he could finally eat with his family without fear.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The door had been unlocked for days so she headed straight home assuming he would not be there at all. When she felt the knob unable to turn completely, a shock jolted through her body. It moved from the inside, allowing the smell of alcohol and other things to escape. Dragged in by her (h/c) hair, she knew his anger would be redirected from the holes that enclosed her fear to her frame. Cries were worthless and caused more harm than good.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Is it worth it anymore?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I am glad everything is finally falling into place.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Everywhere aches. I don’t know if I can do this.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This is the happiest I have felt in a long time.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t think I can last another day.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I can finally see a future ahead of me.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The once introverted boy felt a strange pain in his chest. The usual bubbly annoyance was nowhere to be found. Not paying too much attention to the empty desk in front of him was nearly impossible. Her (h/c) locks usually blocked a portion of the board when he laid his head down and her (favorite scent) perfume tickled his nose. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe she caught a cold.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A few days more of the absence of his classmate unspokenly bothered him. She was normally having a full blown conversation near his desk at this moment. It was annoying but it was a constant he hadn’t realized he would miss from his life.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Where is she?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His curiosity did not settle in the next week; in fact, his interest peaked even more from each passing day. Something had to be wrong especially since he knew she rarely missed this much class time. She was the embodiment of a perfect student, perfect friend, and perfect person. He was sure her missing presence was noticed by everyone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I can’t be the only one who noticed, right?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I wonder if anyone cares that I have been missing.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Probably not.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m so tired.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe if I just close my eyes, then I will feel better when I wake up.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t tell what he noticed first, your glimmering smile or the way your (e/c) eyes lit up. Your beautiful face was accented by (f/c) flowers in full bloom adorning your (h/c) hair. The sound of music playing quietly in the room touched the hearts of everyone as they listened and the whispers of idle chatter echoed in the halls. Everyone was dressed in their school uniforms, the man standing at the front looked unhappy to be there next to his smiling daughter. When he passed by the blonde, the boy could see the glint of a silver bracelet from the hands behind the man's back. He had seen her earlier, the real her that laid next to the giant smiling photo, the purple bruises laid all over her arms and legs. The worst part was the red slashes that mirrored the bracelet her father walked away with. </span>
</p>
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